A Little Belief
by alicenotinwonderland
Summary: Madeline Thornber hates everything about India. Or is it, as a charming young Mohan Patil suggests, really that she hates her own parents for sending her away? This is a story about how the Patil family came about and how a little belief goes a long way.


**Please review :)**

* * *

The city was beautiful in the light of the rising sun. The ship had arrived at its destination port earlier than expected. The giant arch acknowledging the entrance of the British and their subsequent rule was exquisite, its intricacies picked out in a way that would thrill artists by the light of dawn. Sounds of a city slowly awakening to a new day filled the air. The heady aroma of the spices that had drawn the British to India initially was tangible even over the salt of the sea and the stench of the fish that burly men were hauling in all around the port.

She hated it. Madeline Thornber absolutely hated the city of Bombay and everything in it. She made sure her dress didn't touch the ground (how much she hated stepping onto it) and turned back to take a last look at the ship that had brought her there – who knew how long it would be before she could go home again? She walked backwards, feeling the fishermen step out of her way – she _was_ sort of nobility. Her father was one of the biggest names in trade after all and everyone recognised one of his ships. She scrunched up her face at the noise that was slowly growing in volume and the sultriness of the weather that she was quite unused to. How would she even live here?

"Oh!" she gasped as her back connected with something. She felt an arm go around her waist, steadying her. She whirled around quickly, backing away from the smiling face and twinkling eyes of the man who'd caught her. "How dare you!" she exclaimed.

He looked confused. She wondered if he could even understand her for a moment until he replied. "What did I do? _You_ were the one who wasn't looking and bumped into me."

His belligerence stunned her into speechlessness. She was Madeline Thornber. Daughter of Wilbur Thornber! How dared this man speak to her that way! "You should watch where you're going! You could obviously see me. Why didn't you move out of my way?" she demanded.

"I tried but you moved into my path at the last moment," he protested.

"Well then _you_ weren't paying as much attention as you should have either!"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Merlin, I'm sorry. Don't let me ruin the memories of your first steps in India." He grinned. "Although, most people look at the city, not the ship during their first visit."

"How did you know I haven't been here before?" she asked.

"Why don't I show you around the city and answer all your questions?"

Madeline hadn't expected that. She hadn't expected the people to be so _normal_. She'd heard stories of staring and men with crooked teeth and snake charmers. She hadn't heard about good-looking, charming men. "I don't want to be in this city!" she said sharply. "I want to go back home right now!"

"Well why don't you?" he asked, shrugging. "That same ship will leave in a couple of days or if you'd like to leave immediately, there are two more ships of the Thornber fleet leaving soon."

"I can't go back. Not yet." She turned away, unwilling to let this stranger see the tears welling up.

He was silent for a moment; she even wondered if he'd left. But then his words reached her ears, loud and clear over the clamour. "It sounds as though you're angry with the people you left behind, not this city. Perhaps you should give this country a chance. It might not hurt you the way they did."

It wasn't until she went home, his words still ringing in her ears, that she realized he'd said 'Merlin'. Was he a wizard?

* * *

Even two weeks after her arrival, Madeline would never admit that she liked the little cottage overlooking the sea where she stayed with her aunt and uncle. She sat at the desk in her room, trying to write to her parents. It was hard to think of things to say to them. Their last conversation had ended in what was practically her exile to India. A tinkling sound filled the room as the wind chime over the window shook in the breeze – a wind chime that was suspended in mid-air, floating to whichever window had the best draught.

Madeline swallowed the lump in her throat and the sudden urge to snatch the delicate chime out of the air and smash it against her desk. She crumpled up her letter and hurried out of the house, heading for the wide beach. Walks by the sea always calmed her. The cottage was out of sight as she came upon a secluded area when she saw him.

The man she'd bumped into at the port was sitting by the sea, making delicate patterns in the air with sea water.

"So you _are_ a wizard!" she burst out without thinking.

He turned and smiled when he recognized her. The water he'd been Charming splashed onto the sand as she reached him. "Hello," he said. "My name is Mohan Patil. What's yours?"

She hesitated and then held out a stiff hand. "Madeline Thornber. My father is Wilbur Thornber," she couldn't help adding.

He raised his eyebrows in recognition. "Why don't you sit down?" he gestured to the sand beside him. "You seem flustered." Her lips twisted together disapprovingly. He laughed and conjured up a blanket. "There, more appropriate for a lady?"

She stepped away from the blanket, her eyes sparkling with tears again. He looked at her with concern at her odd reaction, standing up as well. "Are you alright, Miss Thornber?"

"I'm fine. It's just that," she gestured towards the blanket, words failing her.

"What is it? I assumed you were a witch too, since you weren't startled by my use of magic earlier."

"No." For some reason, she couldn't bring herself to be angry, not at this stranger. He'd shown more concern for her than anyone else in the past few weeks. Or perhaps she had just run out of anger. She looked at him to find him gazing at her kindly. She couldn't stop herself from blurting out, "It reminds me of home, that's all."

He frowned. "That day, you said you couldn't go back home yet. Why?"

She sighed. She didn't know what it was about him, but she felt like telling him what was wrong. Perhaps it was the fact that he – a perfect stranger – cared enough to ask as no one else had. Perhaps she'd just wanted to get it off her chest and tell someone. "I'm a Squib. The Thornbers are an old Pureblood family. They practically disowned me and _exiled_ me here because I couldn't do more than make a few sparks shoot out of the end of my wand." She snorted. "They regretted buying me one early too, since I never got my Hogwarts letter. My parents made sure no one knew I wasn't attending school; it was a blessing that none of their friends were magical or my age. As soon as I came of age last month, they told me that they thought some time in India with my uncle might be good for me. They thought perhaps I could learn something about the family business from him. When I asked when they expected me back, they just said 'whenever the time was right'." She clenched her fists; her anger wasn't as spent as she'd thought. "I'm a disgrace to the family and they don't want me." She looked at him defiantly, daring him to laugh at her just as the few witches and wizards she'd met had done.

He did smile, but it wasn't condescending or teasing. It was sincere. "A Squib? Is that all that's bothering you?" He held out his hand. "I'm a teacher at the local Wizarding school. I've only been teaching a couple of years but what I've learnt during my own schooling and when I teach, is that as long as you have the gene for magic, all you need is confidence. Sometimes, it's a little harder for some people to use magic. But it doesn't mean they _can't_. I can help you. I can teach you how to use magic, if you'll let me. Maybe all you need is a little belief in yourself."

She stared at him. . It was impossible for a Squib to learn magic, that's what she'd heard all her life. Besides, he was a complete stranger. He was Indian. He was one of the people who would constantly remind her of being a failure. It would be ridiculous to believe that this young man could help her do what she wanted more than anything.

But he'd been kind to her. He'd been the first person to tell her it was even remotely possible.

He was the first person to give her hope, to believe that she could do it.

She placed her hand in his.

* * *

Her aunt and uncle never asked where she disappeared to in the evenings. They didn't care much about her. No one in her family ever did.

Two weeks into her lessons with Mohan – she had learnt to pronounce his name right now, he still had trouble with hers – and she could produce sparks from her wand consistently. He called it a start; even if it wasn't very promising considering that he'd been trying to teach her how to make the pretty bluebell flames that he carried around in a jar to light his way home after dark.

"You've got to _feel_ the magic inside you, Madeline," he said, walking in a circle around her as she pursed her lips and struggled to produce something more substantial than blue sparks. They were in the secluded patch of the beach as always. He waved at the sea. "Look all around you. There's magic everywhere. The scholars say it's all science and nothing is mystical but look at the beauty in the colours that the setting sun paints over the ocean. Look at the way the first stars twinkle. See how the ocean is so constant; going back and forth, back and forth. It may be explained very logically, but if you open your mind, you can see that there is magic all around you. It is a part of the world and it is part of you."

"I'm trying." She scowled. "This wand just doesn't feel right in my hands," she complained.

He looked at her and she saw a daring glint in his eye. He hesitated for just a moment before moving to stand behind her. He reached out and placed his hand over her wrist gently. She looked around, startled at the contact. It wasn't expected but then Mohan had never done the expected. He was looking at the sea but she thought she could see a little pink under his dusky cheeks that wasn't just from the light of the sunset. "The wand is merely an instrument for you to channel your magic. The real power comes from within," he said quietly, his breath softly ghosting over her ear.

A sudden warmth filled her. Concentrating on it, she spoke the spell out loud and gasped as blue flames whooshed out of her wand. They were there just for a moment, but she squealed and turned to face him excitedly. "Did you see that!" she exclaimed. "It worked! I've never been able to do anything like that!"

He smiled at her enthusiasm. "You've still got a long way to go."

She nodded but grinned. "But that's a start! Oh this is brilliant!"

She nearly missed the soft smile and the strange look in his eyes as he watched her dancing around in a most unladylike fashion.

* * *

She got better steadily. He introduced her to his friends and his two sisters and their friends. She had been surprised at how informal and friendly they'd been. She spent her mornings with them. They were eager to teach her too. No one seemed to care that she was a Squib. His oldest sister had been to England before. She had laughed when she heard how Madeline had been made to feel unwanted. She told her that many of non-pureblood community didn't treat Squibs that way. She admitted that perhaps purebloods were a lot more traditional and formal but she and all her friends agreed that everyone should be shown a little love. They'd taken Madeline under their wing and treated her like an old friend. In a few months, she _had_ become an old friend.

Mohan taken her to the school he taught at. Unlike Hogwarts where everyone from the country attended, each major city had a smaller school instead. She was well aware that she wasn't even as good as his first years but each day had her doing better and better.

She was also well aware that she was attracted to him. The way his eyes lit up when she succeeded at a spell and the way he listened to her rant about her family and the way he just _looked_ at her sometimes all made her stomach leap and her heart beat faster.

When she sat on the beach one evening crying over the letter that she'd received from home (no wishes of seeing her home soon in it), he'd found her there and left for a few minutes with a promise to return. He _had_ returned with a picnic basket and smiled at her. "Tea, scones and the sea. What else do you miss about your home? You have people who love you – perhaps even more than the people back home. Maybe, this _is_ home."

She'd been so tempted to ask if he was one of the people who loved her.

* * *

It was almost a year later that she experienced one of the bids for freedom from the British rule. Though the non-violent movement had been picking up momentum, this had been a full-scale riot. The violence had shaken her but not as much as it had Mohan. He had spent a week, distracted and barely noticing how good she'd got. She was finding it easier and easier to access that power within her.

It helped if Mohan was around.

They had talked for ages on the beach. He'd confessed that while he wanted to see a free India, he didn't want to have to kill people to do it. Most of the wizarding community of both communities were amenable to the British moving out and the Ministries were already drawing up an agreement. But, there were some people who had acquired a large profit – like the Thornbers – who weren't so accepting of the idea. And he felt guilty about not supporting the freedom movement because he thought that "the country's not made up of just wizards. I should be helping the Muggles fight for their rights too."

It scared her, the idea that she might have to leave. That she might have to leave him behind. She was in love with him and she knew he was too, although he never said anything. But despite all his fears and troubles, he never stopped believing in her.

It helped her believe in herself too.

* * *

They celebrated the anniversary of her setting foot on Indian soil with lunch at his house. Decorations that he had conjured and she had changed the colours of hung on the walls. She helped cook (with magic of course!) and was amazed at all the things that had changed. She was far from bitter about being in the country now. She loved it.

And she loved him.

He held class as usual on the beach, teaching her how to turn tea into wine in honour of the occasion. It tasted perfect and she had never been more proud. They sat on the beach until the sunset, her head on his shoulder and his arm around her, in comfortable silence. It was only when the sky was painted with hues of orange and pink and red and looked absolutely magical that Mohan turned to face her, looking nervous. He pulled out something from his pocket but kept his fist tightly clenched around it.

"Madeline, when I first saw you, I thought you were just another English brat." He grinned slightly as she raised an eyebrow. "But then we met right here two weeks later and you told me about your life back home. It amazed me how someone could not want you around. I know that we'll have our differences but…" He held out the modest ring he was holding and took a deep breath. "I would like to spend the rest of my life with you – wherever that might be. I promise to always believe in you and would like to do so forever, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife."

Madeline stared at him, speechless for a moment – just long enough for fear and doubt to enter his beautiful, twinkling eyes. She let out the breath she'd been holding. "Yes!" she blurted. "Yes, yes of course I'll marry you!"

They sat there till late in the night, bluebell flames – something she could never have done had he not believed in her - in a dozen jars and the bright stars giving them light.

* * *

Madeline Patil watched the old man and the little girl in the living room fondly.

"That's it, Padma – there's no need to screw your eyes up so tightly, child – just keep it floating for a couple more minutes."

"I did it Grandpa! I did it!" Eleven-year-old Padma danced around the room, much like her grandmother had so many years ago. She had been so terrified that all her classmates would already be better than her that her grandfather had to teach her a simple levitation spell with her new wand.

"I knew you could do it, Padma," he grinned.

"Can we do another one? Pleeeease?"

Mohan laughed. He could never say no to his grandchildren. He caught sight of his wife watching from the doorway, wand in one hand and broom in another. He smiled at her and inclined his head slightly, keeping his eyes on hers as she waved her wand. The broom immediately sprang to life, dusting at the corners. She smiled back at him and nodded to Padma. She left them to their little magic session as she happily watched the broom.

He kept his promise. He never, ever stopped believing in her.

* * *

**Please do review and let me know what you thought :)**

**This was for the QLFC, Falcons, reserve for Chaser 3. The historical setting to be used was the colonization/settlement of a country. Being from India, this was something that I thought I could write well enough. Let me know if something was too OOC or just didn't feel right. My history is limited to textbooks.**


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